


Zeal and Condemnation

by m_aruka



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arshad is 30, Arshad loves opium, Blood, Brothels, Cultural References, Death, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Fighting, First Time, Fluff, Forbidden Romance, Historical References, M/M, Mentor/Pupil - Freeform, Multi, Rogue assassin - Freeform, Runaway Prince, Slow Build, Soma is 16, Strangers to Lovers, Taboo, Teasing, first fic, martial training, more tags to come, plenty of sexual exploration, rebel prince
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 21:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20264686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_aruka/pseuds/m_aruka
Summary: Given the opportunity to take flight, a caged bird will always take it; Prince Soma is no different. Amidst his duties and throng of siblings, the lonely royal longs for more than a predictable, opulent life.Driven by his insatiable curiosity, he sheds his title to experience life outside the safety of his palatial walls, but nothing in his sheltered life prepares him for the dangerous kingdom inhabitant that catches his eye.Arshad Iyer is everything the Prince has been warned to stay away from. His hedonism makes him the living embodiment of vice, and his strength, a pillar of temptation.Some birds are never meant to be caged, they simply require a mentor to teach them to soar.





	Zeal and Condemnation

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first fanfic, so I'm hella' nervous _ayeee_.  
Billions and billions and billions of thanks to [ChromeHoplite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeHoplite/pseuds/ChromeHoplite) for beta-ing this chapter and fixing the summary (and your blessed support dear!♡).
> 
> I illustrated a cover for this fic you can [view over at my tumblr.](https://m-illustr.tumblr.com/post/187054781758/zeal-and-condemnation-read-on-ao3-chapter-i-a)

A sultry summer heat, sun high in the sky by plain noon, one of the princes of the region’s kingdom had taken the habit of sneaking out of the palace, disguised as a peasant. Usually inspecting the land, his father was seldom there; and his mother did not pay that much attention to him, for he was the youngest of her twenty-five children. Soma was the youngest, and had an elder brother who was next in line to inherit the kingdom. He had a caretaker, Mina, who had cared for the prince since he was a babe; and lately, Mina was barely ever seen. After all, Soma was now sixteen years of age, and could be left to his own devices. 

But the boy hated loneliness; being lost in the empty, opulent void that was the palace, the echoes bouncing from wall to wall being the only conversations he heard in a day. Save for the servants and teachers, and maybe he was in part to blame for his solitude; Soma was highly intelligent and abhorred dull conversations; he never interacted much, and just like that, if he did not fancy a lesson on any given day, the teachers had to be dismissed. The prince went on several months dismissing tutors, an act that finally caught his father’s attention, but certainly not in a good way.

“What do you think you’re doing, lounging around the palace as you please? Where are your tutors, Kadar?”

“They come in bearing the same texts, the same lessons, and sincerely, I find all of it dull! Tedious! There must be more things to explore… like the peoples’ needs outside the grounds, papa?”

“The affairs of the people are of no concern to you, Kadar, this was already discussed. Your brother, the eldest, is taking care of that alongside me. You still have much to learn, and much to train for, my boy.”

Soma exhaled an exasperated and audible sigh, and walked out the corridor into the yard, frustrated strides and erratic footsteps taking him across the palace from one end to the next. The prince proceeded into his quarters which overlooked the land before him, the villagers, the temples, and all the greenery that surrounded it. He sighed more calmly, a steadier breath leaving his lips and blowing fine strands of his dark locks away from his cheeks, taking the views in.

He pondered, “why would I have to sacrifice my time with this tedious nonsense, when I’m not even the heir to be? And why should I stay out of people’s affairs? I should be just as concerned and involved too, and deliver my duty as prince, like my brother before me!”

The prince stretched his view of the town at sunset, his amber eyes twinkled with the reflection of dancing flames, lit torches, and lamps of the lively kingdom. That evening, Soma decided again to disguise himself and head into the kingdom’s villages.

* * *

Soma was no stranger to his lands; he recalled visiting often as a child, along with his siblings, a parade of adorned elephants and performers escorting the royal family. But back then, little Kadar was not allowed to be on the grounds, neither were his brothers and sisters, and thus, they had to remain on the elephants, or in their royal carriages. He could still smell the delicious smell of food confectioned by a skilled peasant, wafting about in the streets. Her stall was full of people, and Soma wanted to taste the morsels within the tandoor oven that seduced his nostrils in the first place.

Suddenly, any peace he felt in his recollections was abruptly interrupted as a group of about ten men running one after the other, cut through the middle of the line, shoving the prince back.

“ _ The Hand of God! The Hand of God!”  _ One of them yelled, and it raised the commotion amongst the people, gasps of shock rising in unison. Soma did not have a clue of what was taking place, but his curiosity spared his appetite for later, and off he went, running after a mob of people following the same men.

“What’s happening?” Soma asked one of the villagers. 

“The Hand of God has returned! And not only that! It is rumored he will unleash his fury once more...right here, right now!” the stranger smiled giddily. 

But Soma remained clueless at the vague and rough explanation. What exactly was this fury, the “Hand of God” about to unleash?

As they got closer, Soma heard grunts, screams, the swats of whiplash, and the crackling of fire where a pair of tall, colossal men fought to the death. The people were cheering on, throwing flowers even, between numerous, resounding chants of  _ ‘Hand of God’ _ . The prince moved in, feeling the heat of that ring of fire, and set his eyes on the two men: a pair of dark figures, shimmering in molten fire light and sweat, wrestling and beating each other violently. 

This shocked the prince, but not as much as one of the men who had caught his attention. His hair was long, unusual silver strands flying everywhere at once, swaying dangerously close to the aggressive flames with each of his swift movements. The way his arms and muscles flexed when taking care of his opponent, was a dance feral in nature. Soma admired the scene before him, the man’s eyes casting fire upon blood staining his beautifully carved visage. The rage on his face made the man all the more intimidating, but Prince Soma could not stop staring at him. He was feral, having moved like a beast, like a tiger after prey.

In between the lost moment, Soma found himself coming back to reality when The Hand of God himself, snapped his opponent’s neck in a single twist. And the fight ceased, leaving the Hand of God, victorious once more. People rejoiced, and despite the gleeful welcome, the white-haired man’s face was barren from any remorse. His eyes were calmer now, but the rage was still in them somewhat, simmering down like a candle. Soma turned away quickly, but the tall man had already taken notice of the younger man. He ran back to the stall where the lady was selling her delicious morsels, and quickly purchased a pair of chicken tikka, leaving a few coins more than its original worth.

Eating his tandoori snack messily, he kept thinking about the man. He wanted to be as strong. That would be an advantage over his elder brother, and Soma could even become a soldier to serve his kingdom. With skills like that… he was pretty sure he could do it. All he had to decide now, was how to approach that intimidating monument of a man they called “The Hand of God”.

* * *

Soma looked at his reflection in the water where he bathed. He was mostly skin and bone, and almost effeminate. His flawless face did not exactly help; the smooth, cinnamon hues of his supple complexion were graced by bright golden eyes under full, long eyelashes, and a set of plump lips that were often smiling. As a result, his hopes of approaching that man were basically none. But pushing that thought aside, he went on with it, and went in search of the rogue stranger. So he would have to disguise up once more, and venture into town. Fear had to wait, he mused.

* * *

Soma went into the old lady’s tandoor stall once more. She seemed friendly, so he figured he’d ask her first. “Excuse me...about yesterday’s-

“... are you here for more tikka, young man?”

“Ah, perhaps later, but first, tell me mam’, who was that yesterday? The one... whose hands are called “The Hands of God” ?”

“Ahhh… Arshad,” said the elder lady in a calm tone. “Don’t get close to that beast. He has a terrible habit with over-indulgence. Not to mention, he’s putting his caste to shame! The Brahmin! He renounced it, and now lives like a free devil in these parts. Well you saw it… the way he moved that man around like rope.”

“Where does the Abrahim live?”

“Ah, ah, ah. First mistake. Never,  _ ever _ , call him Abrahim. He has renounced it. Simply go by Arshad. But I don’t see what a child like you would ever want with that criminal.”

“I admire his strength. I want to become stronger, mentored by him!”

“Pff--- hahahaha!” The old lady took a hearty laugh, then pulled the boy by his muslin hoodie, and whispered; “Be careful what you seek outside your safe-havens, your highness.”

Prince Soma gasped, jolting back. But the old lady closed her eyes, nodding her head no, and  _ zipped _ her mouth quiet, as if promising to keep this secret. Soma smiled, and proceeded to ask “if I buy more tikka from you, you tell me where he lives, deal?”

The old lady sighed, and complied nonetheless.

“The spiral staircase that leads to the hoodlums… he doesn’t live there, but he spends most of his time there at a harem, making himself drugged and drunk. I would cover your nose if I were you, for he’s quite partial to opium dens. I say no more. At the very least, if you find him in these conditions, he may be willing to talk, even if it’s nonsense. Be very careful, your highness.”

* * *

The prince paced back and forth within his lush quarters. How would he go about convincing this menace? Earlier on, the prince decided to be cautious, and carefully consider things. Thus, he had gone around town, gathering bits of information here and there about the mysterious, rogue man. He was most definitely feared, people kept him at a distance. He worked as an assassin for hire often, but mostly to support his hedonistic lifestyle. Women craved him, and he would refuse them if he so wished. Sometimes he demanded several women, sometimes just one for a mere hour. Despite his feral nature, the man had every aspect of his life under control. Not many people dared look him in the eyes. Those eyes that the prince had not figured out yet, for all he remembered about them that night were embers reflecting within his mysterious orbs.

Today was the day, Prince Soma Asman Kadar would visit the “Hand of God”. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> To be continued~ Thank you for reading. Kudos, comments, yells, concrit, are all welcome, here or [my tumblr](http://m-illustr.tumblr.com).(￣∀￣)/


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